


Us

by svana_vrika



Category: Free!
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Missing Scene, Tokyo (City), makoharu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 05:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svana_vrika/pseuds/svana_vrika
Summary: Haruka wants to tell Makoto how he feels, but life keeps getting in the way. In between looking at apartments in Tokyo, Haruka decides to just confess, but he needs to figure out what Makoto is hiding from him, first.





	Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [benicemurphy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/benicemurphy/gifts).

> [benicemurphy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/benicemurphy) is one of the first friends I made after I started writing for Free! She and I have discussed Tokyo!MakoHaru confessions many times in the months that have followed, so I decided to try and give voice to one of the many ways the moment could happen. [benicemurphy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/benicemurphy), happiest of birthdays to you, sweet friend! 
> 
> \- This story is an original work of fan-fiction. The Free! franchise and its characters, props and settings are the intellectual property of Masahiro Yokotani, Kyoto Animation and Animation Do. I just borrowed them for a bit of entertainment. No copyright infringements are intended, and I will make no profit from their use.
> 
> -Work is unbetaed.

Something is up with Makoto. Haruka has felt it since they’d gotten off the bus. He isn’t worried that Makoto had fallen asleep. Even trips as short as the one to Samezuka can coax Makoto into dozing, and Haruka knows that Makoto would have drifted off even if they’d taken one of the day buses into Tokyo. He’s thinking it might have something to do with whatever Makoto been dreaming. Busy with his bag, Haruka had missed Makoto waking up, but he’s seen that face plenty of times in the years that they’ve been friends. It hadn’t been a nightmare, thank god, but it had been disturbing enough, and Makoto has been slightly off ever since.

But he’s not said a word about it, which has Haruka feeling slightly off, too. 

Tokyo is new for both of them. Save for their high school tournaments, the only time Haruka has been away from home without either his family or Makoto’s had been for the entrance exams and when Rin had dragged him off to Sydney. It’s the same for Makoto, without Australia, of course. And Tokyo is huge, and _so_ different from Iwatobi. It’s only natural that, for as excited as they are to start this next phase of their lives, they would be anxious, and afraid a bit, too. But—once Haruka had shared his decision—they’ve always talked about it with each other, have always assured each other; have reminded each other more than once that they’re not stepping forward alone. That, even though they’re on different paths, they’ll be facing the vastness and newness of Tokyo together.

Which is why Haruka can’t figure out why Makoto is trying to hide his feelings this time. 

It’s obvious to Haruka that Makoto is overwhelmed and a little bit frightened. It’s in everything about him: his eyes and laugh, the slight tightening of his hands around his food, the utterly lost stares he gives the train monitors. Haruka wants to remind Makoto that he’s anxious, too, but that would give away that Haruka is onto him, and there just isn’t time in their day to have that conversation properly. Not when it will make Makoto feel awkward and embarrassed; especially not when they end up spending most of the afternoon in Kisumi’s company. So, Haruka sets it aside with his curiosity over Makoto’s dream to address it later and does what he can to comfort Makoto instead, mentally thanking Rin for the nth time for his impromptu trip as it’s at least given Haru some experience navigating a huge city. Makoto leans on his show of confidence, as he always has, and they both relax. At least a little bit.

Meeting Misaki is a bizarre, but not unwelcome, coincidence. In the pool with him now, all of Makoto’s anxiety and uncertainty vanishes, and Haruka sees the same confidence and joy in Makoto that he’d noted when he’d taken Ran and Ren to watch Makoto coach his last day in Iwatobi. Makoto has done well to listen to his heart’s calling, Haruka thinks, and he’s improved even since then. Haruka’s not surprised. After nationals and sorting themselves out from their fight, Makoto had poured himself into his studies. Even his leisure-reading had shifted tones from the more whimsical to the more practical, Makoto gearing himself up for the more specific studies that the entrance exams hadn’t demanded. It makes Haruka happy, proud, to see Makoto like this and, leaving him to the boy, he slips into the water. The gasps and cries of awe are just part of the white noise as he swims and lets himself get lost in his favorite haven.

Or is it? 

Haruka’s cheeks warm despite the coolness of the water. He knows the answer to that; had realized on Obon, in the two seconds between Makoto’s announcement and the crack of those first fireworks. With Makoto is where he feels happiest. Safest. Most complete. He still doesn’t know what to do with it, though. At first, everything had been too raw for such an admission and then, after, he’d been too relieved that he hadn’t torn everything apart to risk upsetting things again. Besides, between their classes, cram school, applications and studying, Haruka doesn’t think they’d had a spare brain cell between them, knows they wouldn’t have survived without Makoto’s mom bringing meals over and, toward the end, mandating that both of her boys be in her house by ten so that she could ensure they weren’t staying up all night studying, too. 

Their last holidays in Iwatobi had come during the worst of it. Christmas had been spent babysitting the twins, which had meant a night of reprieve; there simply hadn’t been any way they could really study with Ran and Ren about. A pointed look had silenced Makoto’s protests that Haruka didn’t have to be there and, after, he and Makoto had pretty much indulged the twins in whatever they’d wanted—that wouldn’t put them all in trouble with Makoto’s mom, of course. By the time Ran and Ren had finally fallen asleep, he and Makoto had been exhausted; too tired to even bother with the futon, they’d just crawled into Makoto’s bed together. 

On the edge of sleep, Haruka had thought about telling Makoto then, but he’d drifted off as he’d been gathering the words, and then it had been morning, breakfast with the family, and back to the grind again. Another brief study break had come for the New Year, but Haruka’s parents had been home, then it had been back to school, and exams, and spending as much time with the team as they could… Haru sighs into the water. He feels selfish holding onto his confession, but it had seemed more selfish to share. And now, here they are, just days from leaving home altogether. 

Abruptly, Haruka’s mind goes back to that first afternoon at Nationals. He and Makoto had just apologized to each other and had been watching the swimmers practice, and he remembers Makoto telling him that he just hadn’t been able to get the words out regarding Tokyo. _Ah, this is what he meant,_ Haruka thinks as the realization strikes that there will never be a perfect time. Life will keep on happening. But there’d been plenty of decent times, too, and he decides then to take the next. It’s a nerve-wracking thought, but the one of ending back down that path of miscommunication and distance is even more so. Besides, it’s Makoto. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, Haruka knows that he would never be cruel. And he’d rather deal with any potential awkwardness than let anything ever fester between them again. 

Haruka knows with certainty that Makoto loves him, would know even if Makoto hadn’t verbally told him more than once in his own way, beyond the one time he’d actually said the words. It’s in everything Makoto does, Makoto’s never-ending patience with him most of all. But loving someone is different than being _in love_ with someone, and that’s where Haruka questions. Ever since they were small, Makoto has always pulled him along, using his smile, tone and touch to encourage Haruka into whatever it was Makoto wanted. Some of Haruka’s dearest and most permanent memories were born from Makoto’s gentle persistence and, looking back now, Haruka can see that, even in their earliest years, Makoto’s thoughts and desires, the things he’d tugged Haruka into, were always for Haruka or _them_, and never for Makoto specifically. 

Haruka’s heart and emotions, however, are different things altogether. In that regard, Makoto _never_ pushes or pulls. Instead, he handles them like they’re something fragile and precious, protecting them even from Makoto’s own curiosity and concern, letting Haruka be until Haruka is ready to open up and share them. His grandmother, Rin, his parents, Rin again: each time, Makoto was just quietly _there_, unwavering, like a rock in Haruka’s emotional sea, waiting for Haruka to break against him and then gently helping him sort things out and put himself back together again. Their confrontation on Obon, when Makoto had finally felt enough was enough and that he’d needed to protect Haruka from _himself_, had been the sole exception. So it’s entirely possible that yes, Makoto _is_ in love with him, too, but that he’s buried it deeply enough so that not even Haruka can see, and is patiently waiting, as always. 

The thought causes a physical ache to thrum through Haruka’s heart. It disrupts his rhythm, and with a slight huff, he flips himself out of his crawl, onto his back and into a lazy float. There’s only one way he’ll find out the answer for certain and he’s already made up his mind about that, so he lets his mind shift to Makoto’s more recent behavior. Why is he putting on the front that he is? What’s the reason for his uncertainty? They’d cleared up any lingering confusion and hurt from their fight on Obon long ago, and there’s no way that Makoto can be worried that he’s meddling anyway. Haruka had been the one who’d suggested that they come into Tokyo together, what with Makoto needing to pick up his keys and all. Makoto had been confident through his exams—as confident as anyone preparing to sit through them can be—he’d been excited about Tokyo and his flat when he’d come back after securing it with his father. So, does it have something to do with the fact that, in just a few days, it’ll be here and real and happening? Or is there something about this trip in particular that has Makoto feeling off? 

Haruka’s mind floats back to those moments on the bus and he wonders again about the dream and if maybe _that’s_ the cause; with another soft huff, he flips again and then lets himself sink beneath the surface to swim under water. He knows that Makoto would be honest with him if he asked, though he’d probably hedge first, Haru thinks with a slight roll of his eyes and an affectionate curve to his lips. But it’s how to go about doing it. Makoto is strong, and brave in ways that Haruka can’t even begin to match. But his self-confidence can be a very fragile thing. 

By the time Haruka surfaces at the other end of the pool, Makoto is waiting for him, and it’s his usual smile in place as he extends his hand, the one that slants his eyes just so and brings a particularly beautiful light to the green. There’s none of that earlier anxiety or any tells that Makoto’s trying to hide it, and Haruka is thankful for whatever force it was that caused their path and Misaki’s to intersect when, and how, they had.

After a quick shower, they change and work their way through the train systems again to meet Makoto’s landlord at the scheduled time. Makoto signs his lease with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, but this time, Haru doesn’t question the latter. The future: Tokyo, university, leaving home, it all becomes _now_ with that single signature, and it isn’t until after they’ve eaten the convenience store bentos in Makoto’s empty apartment that either of them really speak again. Makoto randomly notes his need for curtains, breaking the comfortable, if pensive, silence, and then he gets up to stand in front of the balcony. He confesses then, to his insecurity, his anxiety, shares with a smile how working with Misaki had eased his mind and how he’ll do his best in his own way. Haruka smiles a bit, thinks that perhaps that’s all it had been: that being there in Tokyo, that everything becoming _real_ and _now,_ might have been the cause of Makoto’s distress after all. 

And then Makoto mentions Rin, something clicks, and Haruka’s smile fades. 

It isn’t the first time that day that Makoto has spoken about Rin, has compared himself to the redhead. Haruka recalls other comments then as well, ones made in passing about the team and how Makoto knows he has to work hard like they are. ““Rin wasn’t that honest with himself,” Haruka retorts, more to fill the silence that’s lingered just a little too long than anything. He does smile a bit again when Makoto laughs, but then he sobers. “Makoto always works hard and does well,” Haruka says, head tilting slightly. “You shouldn't compare yourself like have been all day. You said it yourself, Makoto is Makoto, ne?”

“Mm.” 

Haruka’s lips press softly when Makoto smiles with the sound and turns to the window again instead of coming back to join him. “Makoto,” he begins, but then his phone buzzes. It catches him off-guard a bit, he’s that unused to having it with him. Makoto softly laughs at him through his reflection in the glass, and Haruka rolls his eyes as he glances at the message. It’s Kisumi’s uncle, letting him know that the key has been returned and that he can go back to the final flat for a better look if he’d like. Haruka quietly sighs. It’s not exactly something that he can put off, especially since he does have a good feeling about the place, so the conversation with Makoto will have to wait. 

Within seconds of stepping into the flat, Haruka knows that he’s found his space. It’s clean, warm and welcoming, has everything he needs, with the unexpected bonus of a loft for storage, and he shares in the pleasure and relief he sees in Makoto’s eyes when he says that he’ll take it. He calls Kisumi’s uncle to let him know, and he thanks the man sincerely when he’s told to wait until after supper and the traffic rush has died some to bring back the car and key, that they’d take care of the paperwork then. 

“All set?” Makoto asks once Haruka disconnects the call, and he smiles when Haruka nods. “Come look, Haru-chan,” he says softly as he turns back to the balcony doors, and Haruka joins him, a slight smile forming as he takes in the sight. “Pretty, ne?” 

“Mm.” Haruka opens the door and they both step out. The space isn’t very long and is fairly narrow; just another step and they’re both leaning on the railing, but it’ll do nicely for laundry, they both fit comfortably, and it does offer a pretty view. 

“I’m glad you found this place, Haru,” Makoto says, lips curving softly as he gazes out. “It’s peaceful, and with the sakura and the park, it’s like you’ve found a bit of home.” 

Haruka glances up at Makoto’s handsome profile, sees the curve of his sweet smile, and his stomach flutters slightly. _Any place Makoto is is home,_ Haruka wants to say, but his cheeks warm at the thought and his voice sticks. “Mm,” he quietly agrees, but inside, he’s frustrated; wonders where his earlier resolve went. It seems the perfect time, and the setting is right, but he just can’t grab the words, so he decides to tackle the other question instead. “Makoto.”

“Hm?” 

“On the bus; you had a bad dream.” He glances up at Makoto from the corner of his eyes when he feels his posture shift slightly in surprise, and Makoto smiles, slight and sheepish. 

“I should have known Haru would be able to tell.” 

“Mm.” 

Makoto doesn’t say anything else right away, which Haruka had expected. But as the silence lingers longer than it should, Haruka’s lips press. Makoto’s always shared even—to Makoto—his most embarrassing dreams when Haruka has caught him from one, so Haruka can only surmise that Makoto is reluctant to talk to him. He doesn’t like that, especially not with last summer still so present in his mind, and he takes a sliding step so that their elbows are touching. “Was it about the move?” he asks when Makoto looks at him in question with the contact. “About me?” he poses next when Makoto just smiles a bit and shakes his head—and there it is. A slight tensing through Makoto’s features, a change in his smile that tells Haruka he’s biting the inside of his lip, and Haruka’s stomach flips, but not in the pleasant way it had before. “What about me? Makoto,” he persists when the only answer he gets is Makoto’s hands tightening against the railing and a hint of color rising in his cheeks. 

“It’s so stupid,” Makoto blurts, and he shifts a hand to rub at his neck, it lightly slapping against his thigh when he drops it. After a moment or two, he starts to talk, and Haru’s heart softly hurts as Makoto recounts his dream of being ignored and left behind. Of reaching out for Haruka. Of falling.

“Makoto, I wou—” 

“I know,” Makoto cuts in hurriedly. “I know you wouldn’t, Haru. I mean, you were right there, soon as I woke up, holding your hand out to me like you did when we were kids. I thought, _that’s right. You’re not by yourself. Haru-chan’s in Tokyo, too._ Like I said, it was stupid.” 

“Stop that,” Haruka replies automatically in response to Makoto’s self-depreciation, but beyond that, he’s not really sure what to say. He believes Makoto, knows quite well from his own experiences that one has no control over their dreams, but it still doesn’t sit well with him. There really isn’t any room for misinterpretation. On some level, at some point, Makoto had feared Haruka leaving him alone and behind, perhaps still did, and a second later, Haruka’s lips lightly press. _In Tokyo, too,_ Makoto had said. Not _in Tokyo **with me**_. There’s a world of difference between the two and, Haruka realizes, he _does_ know what to say. “I am here,” he affirms, “But I just thought; Makoto never did ask me why.” 

“Haru?” Haruka turns so that he can look at him properly; Makoto reads the silent _well?_ and gives a sheepish smile and shrug. “I figured that it was Haru’s business and that you’d tell me when you wished,” he explains, and then that smile takes on a gently crooked note when Haruka just continues to stare; Makoto’s way of saying, _alright, I’ll bite_. “Why _did_ you decide Tokyo out of all your offers, Haru? There were a lot of other good schools that wanted you, after all.”

Haruka’s mouth takes on a slightly crooked curve of its own. Makoto is being generous. Tokyo hadn’t been his only choice, but between his poor individual performance at regionals and how long it had taken him to sort himself out, the offers had definitely dwindled. “There were,” he leaves it as, “But Hidaka offered me something that none of the others were able to.” The words come out steadily, casually, and Haruka is pleased, but mostly surprised, given how his nerves are gripping at him. Which is stupid. It’s Makoto. But that’s also why they are. Makoto though, bless him, is utterly oblivious to his innuendo; he can fake that cluelessness sometimes, even to Haruka, but never when they’re meeting eyes straight on as they are now. Like this, with that beautiful green gaze completely open to him, Haruka can read him like a book. Which means he’s going to have to lay it out. 

_Damn._

“Makoto is in Tokyo, too.” Haruka’s cheeks burn and he turns his head away, but he looks back when he hears the whisper of his name, and the expression in Makoto’s eyes makes the embarrassment worth it. “Makoto is brave,” he continues. “You took the step ahead, all on your own. You chose your path, which made mine clear once I decided where to look for it.” He shifts his hand just that little bit more, loosely takes Makoto’s fingertips with his own. “So forget about that dream. I wouldn’t ever leave Makoto behind. You’re the reason I’m here to begin with. Not the swimming, not the promise of more competition with Rin, but you. I’m in Tokyo because of Makoto. For Makoto. For us.” And after the last awkward bit, he does have to look away again. 

“For us,” Makoto echoes and, after a second, he shifts his hand, twines his fingers properly through Haruka’s, and Haruka feels like his heart is thundering when he feels Makoto move closer. “What kind of us, Haru?” he asks in a voice that’s at once thick with urgency and a little bit breathless, and Haruka would find it very attractive if it wasn’t for the annoyance he felt. Why can’t Makoto just know, he thinks. Why, with everything else Makoto just understands, does it have to be this he drags out of him? But Haruka can feel his cheeks start to warm even as he silently complains. He knows that there’s only one reason for the push. Makoto suspects. And Makoto is always protective, always cautious, of Haruka’s heart, even when it comes to himself. 

“Just us, Makoto,” he replies after a second, when the bit of tetchiness has passed. “The us we’re meant to be and have been moving toward all along.” Makoto’s fingers tighten through his, and Haru turns to fully face him, laces their other hands together, tips his face up despite the heat he feels in it. Makoto’s cheeks are pinked, too, his eyes wide and soft, lips slightly parted as if waiting to breathe; he’s beautiful. “You’ve felt it, too,” he says quietly. “That we’re ready? That I'm in love with you, too? That’s why you never asked me why Tokyo, ne?” 

Haruka’s eyes go wide when, before he’s really finished speaking, Makoto has pulled him close, his hands slipping free so that he can wrap Haruka in his arms and hold him there. “I hoped,” Haruka hears hoarsely and slightly muffled by his hair. “I hoped so hard, Haru. But the more time passed once you told me Hidaka, the more I couldn't let myself think about it.”

Makoto still hasn’t verbally answered him, but the way that Makoto is holding him, the tears that Haruka can hear in his voice, it’s enough for now, and Haruka brings his arms up and around Makoto’s torso, rests his hot cheek on the coolness of his coat. “I'm sorry,” he mumbles to Makoto’s last. Thick fingers card gently through his hair and he closes his eyes, but before he can go on to tell about how he’d tried, Makoto has straightened and has put just a slight distance between them. 

“Mm-mm.” Makoto gives a single shake of his head, fingers lightly touching Haruka’s cheek, and oh the way Makoto’s eyes light when Haruka leans into it slightly; it makes Haruka want to turn and press his mouth to that gentle hand, but Makoto moves it back down to his waist again before he can. “Don’t be. Life's been hard and crazy practically since nationals, Haru. It’s really the first real time we’ve had.”

In just those few words, Makoto sums up everything, saves Haruka from stumbling through it himself, eases the guilt he’s carried practically since Nationals for having held his silence, and Haruka’s hands tighten against the back of Makoto’s coat as he rests his head against the front again with a quiet, “Mm.” As always, Makoto’s a solid, comforting presence as Haruka’s emotions crest and crash now that he’s let them surface: relief, and gratitude, but mostly just an overwhelming rush of love for Makoto, his best friend, the one who’s adored and cherished him, who’s stuck with him, even through the times Makoto _hadn’t_ understood, since they’d been little boys. 

‘Besides, it feels right, it being now,” Makoto says softly, fingers stroking through Haruka’s hair again. That does bring Haruka’s face up, and Makoto’s expression, the way his hand shifts to softly cup the back of his head against his palm; Haruka’s heart races slightly and his words stick again, but again, he doesn’t need them. “It’s just you and me, starting the next part of our lives, leaving everything behind but each other…” Makoto answers to Haruka’s eyes, and then he trails off, swallows slightly as his fingertips lightly curl against Haruka’s scalp. “Haruka,” he whispers, and all Haruka can do is nod to the question spoken through his name. His eyes are briefly drawn to Makoto’s mouth as he moistens his lips with his tongue and tips his head, and then their lips touch: a brush first, a breath of Haruka’s name, and then a more insistent press, one that slowly starts to move as Haruka shifts a hand up to mimic Makoto’s touch through Makoto’s soft hair. “I love you,” Makoto says lowly when they part, foreheads meeting, noses lightly brushing, and though Haruka has known since his own confession, has suspected for longer than that, it still sets his heart to fluttering to actually _hear_ it.

“I love Makoto, too,” he replies on a breath, “So no more bad dreams. You don’t need to chase after me there anymore. I’m already always by your side.” 

“Haru. Mm,” Makoto murmurs with a tremulous smile and such happiness glittering in the corners of his eyes that Haruka feels his own sting lightly. So he brings their mouths together again, because kissing Makoto is a much better sensation than, well anything, he thinks, at least of what he’s experienced in life so far. But he doesn’t let his mind wander to that, to the what next, or when, as scintillating as it promises to be with Makoto’s mouth moving against his own and Makoto’s hands at his hip and in his hair. There’s no reason to take time from this moment. Just like every other stage in their life together, it would happen when it was right. For them.


End file.
